<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>sail from this shore by Anonymous</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520204">sail from this shore</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Vampire Diaries (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, random OC mook referenced</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:48:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29520204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i> Damon's response was to grin, delightedly, so she deduced it wasn't having the desired effect.</i> (Archive 2015)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sail from this shore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Did you threaten to kill Elliot?"</p><p>Damon paused, his hand hovering over one of the bottles of bourbon on the sideboard, gazing thoughtfully into the middle distance as though contemplating whether to bother lying or not, or as she called it 'which particular direction should I yank Bonnie's chain this morning.'</p><p>She folded her arms across her chest, glare forbidding. Damon's response was to grin, delightedly, so she deduced it wasn't having the desired effect. "Oh, Bon-Bon," he said lazily. "Is that surprising to you?"</p><p>"It wouldn't be <i>shocking</i>, but he came to <i>me</i> afterwards, which means you involved me somehow."</p><p>He <i>tsked</i> through his teeth. "What a tattle tale."</p><p>"Actually, I wouldn't describe it as tattling. I would describe it as mild hysteria with a side of <i>threatening.</i> Damon - "</p><p>His expression had changed. He still looked like he was amused at the world's expense, but a cruel edge had crept into his smile. He straightened fully, rolling his shoulders back and dropping an ice cube into his drink with a flick of his fingers. He left the glass behind when he turned for the door, though. "You know, I must be getting soft," he announced. "Giving warnings. Three strikes system is a bad idea, if I've said it once - "</p><p>Alarmed, Bonnie put herself forcibly in his way. This just reminded her she had to look <i>up</i> at him, with made blood flush into her cheeks. She straightened her spine. "<i>Damon</i>."</p><p>He rocked on his heels, but not before coming so close he brushed her from shoulder to hip. He was looking down at her, pupils dilated open and black and a faint smile drifting over his lips. "What?"</p><p>"First of all, don't you <i>dare</i> hurt someone on my behalf." She held up a finger to emphasize it. "Second of all, your 'first strike' for Elliott was breaking his arm with a two by four. Third of all, I can take care of myself."</p><p>He stooped in, ruffling the air in front of her face, drawing back as she made to flick his forehead. Before - how many months, how much time lost in that backwards empty world? - <i>then</i>, it would have been annoying, a deliberately threatening imposition. Now her heart lurched with a familiar surge, an obnoxious flash of electricity that she knew...well, she felt sure he was trying to provoke.</p><p>Maybe it was just in Damon's nature to push and prod and bait. Maybe it was just reflexive. All she knew was that she'd lost the ability to back away, even when she knew she should. "Stop," she said, annoyed. "Do not go after Elliott."</p><p>"You know, if I don't back up my vague and bloody promises, they stop having <i>impact</i> Bonnie." Dark hair fell over his brow, and he wasn't backing up at all either, but he was grinning down at her wider and wider.</p><p>"He's off licking his wounds," Bonnie said impatiently. "Let him absorb that impact, and answer the question. Did you threaten to kill Elliott?"</p><p>Damon paused. He cocked his head to the side. Now she <i>knew</i> he was just playing her.</p><p>"Damon!"</p><p>He gave a dismissive flick of his hand. "Maybe, sure, yes," he said. "Your point being?"</p><p>"My point being don't threaten to kill people on my behalf!"</p><p>"Mm." He turned and drifted away, reclaiming his glass. "Not that I haven't been enjoying the rekindling of your killer instinct, Bon-Bon - " and he said that too softly, a dark velvet glance flicked at her from under veiling lashes, one corner of his mouth twitching savagely, and she remembered him bleeding on his knees in front of her with anguished eyes and flushed again, not even knowing with what. " - but you should really be a little more indiscriminate in its usage. If he threatened you..."</p><p>"We need him," Bonnie said, her voice faltering into softness.</p><p>"We don't need him <i>that</i> much."</p><p>"By all means, Damon, present me your comprehensive scale of - "</p><p>The glass hit the tabletop and clattered. Damon was suddenly looming over her, which he <i>knew</i> didn't work, he knew she could burn the flesh from his bones, but it wasn't menace in his smile now. Or not only menace. He was smiling at her, whitewhite teeth flashing between his lips, and he said, "we don't need <i>anyone</i> that much."</p><p>This was a terrible fucking idea. Bonnie knew with a bone-deep certainty that if she leaned up right now he'd kiss her, or he'd let her kiss him and return it so readily and savagely it made no difference. She knew he'd gather her up in his arms, pick her off the fucking floor - <i>she'd thrown herself into his arms and he'd lifted her, held her, and she'd felt obscenely parodically safe there, joy a clean and burning thing shared between their skin</i> - fill his hands with her waist and ass and legging-wrapped legs. She had the overwhelming sense that if she tugged at the buttons of his shirts or his jeans he'd shove his shelf of alcohol clear and fuck her right there on the sideboard, sharpsweet mouth on her throat and mocking voice whispering tender, filthy, terrifying things in her ears. If she crossed the line - </p><p>She'd watched Elena wreck on the burning shores of what passed for his love. She'd watched Caroline battered down and scraped away under the force of his willful indifference. She had to be wiser than this. She had to have learned to take care of herself better than this, to have learned better than to hang her heart out in the wind to be ripped to shreds.</p><p>Bonnie took a step back. She swallowed, dry, heard her throat click.</p><p>"I can handle Elliott," she whispered, rasping. Damon retreated two polite, meaningless steps. His eyes were still burning into her skull.</p><p>"Thank you for dropping by," he said graciously.</p><p>"Damon, I mean it." She was backing up, though. They'd gotten so close to crossing a line the sand had scuffed. She had to get out of the house, gulp clean air, regain her equilibrium.</p><p>He was laughing at her, she could see it in his face. "Oh, Elliott and I will work things out."</p><p>She pointed at him. "Damon - "</p><p>"Fine. This time, I'll concede he's probably gotten sufficient reward." He waited until she got to the doorway before adding pleasantly, "his strikes are up."</p><p>Bonnie paused. She touched the doorframe, felt the smooth wood under her fingertips, felt her world sway with the weight of his eyes on her back. "I think he got the message," she said softly.</p><p>"I only wish I'd been there to see it."</p><p>She walked out of the room knowing he was smiling behind her, and knowing he could hear her heart tripping wildly in her throat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A gift for a friend long after I stopped watching, so I hope it makes moderate sense.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>